


We Stan A Blonde Twink

by eddiewrites307



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Because I said so damnit, Explicit Language, Flirting, Harry is a hot mess, Instagram, M/M, Oblivious Harry, Sexual Tension, Social Media, also he wears skirts and makeup because he looks good and he knows it, and completely social media inept, and give both terrible and great advice, but at least he gets his shit together eventually, draco is insta famous, harry is a simp, he's so dumb y'all, hes a TWINK, hes so Pretty, i tried not to curse but i have no self control, ron runs a meme account, sirius and remus are alive, they're married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:53:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eddiewrites307/pseuds/eddiewrites307
Summary: Draco Malfoy is famous for being pretty on Instagram. Harry Potter is his best friend, who may or may not have a crush, and may or may not be constantly stalking his Insta page.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 274





	We Stan A Blonde Twink

Draco Malfoy was very, very pretty. He knew he was very, very pretty. With his delicate bone structure, his white blonde hair, and those silver eyes surrounded by long eyelashes, he was easily the prettiest boy Harry knew, and the cockiest about it.

All in all, it made sense that he became a social media guru.

It started small. A few carefully edited selfies, a tutorial on the perfect winged eyeliner every now and again, and it evolved into hundreds of thousands of dedicated followers and ‘stans’ who called themselves ‘Draco’s Dolls’.

Harry didn’t understand it in the slightest. Well, he understood all the obsessive followers, god knew he was a little obsessive over the blond himself, but social media in general really wasn’t something he had a grasp on.

Ron thought it was hilarious that he didn’t understand social media accounts. Ron ran a fairly successful meme account, whatever that meant.

“Please just let me make you an Instagram, Harry,” Ron begged over brunch. They went out every Friday. “You’re not eighty, surprisingly, even  _ Hermione  _ has one.” Hermione, Ron’s bookish fiance and Harry’s other best friend since childhood, probably would’ve smacked him for the tone he made that comment in. But, she wasn’t here, so Harry smacked him.

“I don’t want a social media,” he whined. “Sirius already finds a way to track my every move since I moved out.” Sirius was Harry’s godfather, and though he was very free-spirited, he also tended to be weirdly overprotective. 

“Then don’t tell him, duh,” Ron said with an eyeroll. “C’mon mate, I’m tired of having to update you anytime anyone posts information on their lives. Besides…” he grinned, an evil little grin that he definitely got from his mischievous older brother. “Don’t you want your own Instagram to stalk the little ferret on?”   


“Don’t call him a ferret,” Harry said automatically, but Ron had succeeded in getting his head to spin, and he knew it. The ginger sat back with a grin as Harry stared off into space, thinking. It wasn’t stalking, not really, he just wanted to be able to track what his friend was posting, without having to ask directly. Right? Right. Not creepy at all. 

“Fine,” he said quickly.

Ron clapped. “Right!” he said cheerfully. “Hand over your phone.”   


Harry did, and Ron quickly unlocked it -- how long had he known Harry’s password? -- and went to the app store, downloading Instagram -- oh great, he knew that password too. 

“Okay, honestly, I don’t think you have a single photo on your phone that can be used as a profile picture, that’s just sad,” Ron muttered, scrolling through Harry’s camera roll. He looked up, raising an eyebrow. “You do have a disturbing amount of Malfoy photos though.”

“I will snatch my phone and go home right now,” Harry grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Nah, you won’t,” Ron said, having years of practice of calling Harry out on his bullshit. “Oh, this’ll work!” He turned the phone towards Harry to show him the picture he’d found.

It was a picture Draco had taken a while ago and forced Harry to save, claiming it was the only time he wasn’t dressed like he was homeless. Harry-in-the-picture was wearing a button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, glasses perched in their usual place on the very end of his nose. One hand was in his hair, which vaguely looked like he’d been electrocuted, and he was laughing.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad photo.

Harry nodded. “Alright, use it,” he confirmed, and Ron grinned, tapping the screen a few more times before sliding the phone over to Harry.

_ Harry Potter _ , the account read.  _ 26, my secret weapon is sarcasm, he/him _ . The username read  _ savior.complex.potter _ , and he noticed that he was already following Ron, Hermione, and Draco.

“He/him?” Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. “Pronouns to validate the trans community, Hermione explained it to me a bit ago.”   


“Cool, cool,” Harry said, turning his phone off and shoving it into his back pocket. He’d look through (stalk) Draco’s account later. “So, what’s all this I’ve been hearing about Ginny’s new girlfriend?”   


~   


As soon as he got to the flat he shared with Draco, who was fortunately out for the day, Harry collapsed on their couch and opened Instagram.

It wasn’t creepy, damnit.

He clicked on Draco’s profile, and the screen loaded with pictures of the beautiful blond, smokey eyes and glossy lips, half-open shirts and skirts with knee-high socks, all sorts of photos that were enough to make Harry grateful he was sitting down.

It wasn’t a crush, okay? His friend was just very attractive. 

He scrolled through the page for a bit longer, definitely not gaping at every picture, before nearly dropping his phone when the door slammed open and a loud “POTTER!” echoed through the flat.

Harry quickly exited Instagram and turned his phone off, shoving it in his pocket as he stood. “What crawled up your arse and died?” he asked, amused.

Draco stomped into the room, the small heels of his boots clicking with every step. “My bloody mother is going to be the death of me,” he seethed.

Oh, that was going to be good. Draco normally adored his mother, a very classy woman who insisted that Harry call her Narcissa. 

“What did she do?” Harry said, taking Draco’s arm in hand and leading him into the kitchen for some tea.

“Well for one thing, she’s decided she wants to get back in touch with  _ your  _ godfather now that we’ve both disgraced the family name,” Draco glared. Harry stifled a snort. Sirius and Narcissa were cousins, but Sirius had been disowned as a teenager, and Narcissa never reached out. However, with her divorce and visibly queer son, she too was a disgrace.

“I don’t see what’s so awful about that,” Harry protested in his godfather’s favor.

“He popped up at our breakfast!” Draco hissed. “He called me ‘cub’ and insisted that we were ‘eyeliner bro’s’!” 

Harry tried to hold it together. He really did. He lasted about five seconds.

“Oh my god!” he cackled, bending over and clutching his stomach as he laughed. “Now you have to deal with him too!”   


“I don’t want to!” Draco said. “He talked about his bloody husband for half an hour!”   


“Don’t be mean to Remus, Remus is the bearable one,” Harry said, straightening up and wiping at his eyes, the odd snicker still escaping him. “I actually have dinner with them in a few days, I’ll have to mention your bitching.”   


“Don’t you dare, Potter.”   


“Try and stop me.”   


Draco lunged, and Harry let out as unmanly shriek as he was tackled to the ground, before cackling as he easily got the upper hand, using his muscle mass to his advantage and pinning Draco to the ground.

“Nice try, twink,” Harry teased, holding Draco’s wrists above his head. 

Draco merely looked up at him through those dark eyelashes. “And what are you going to do now, Harry?” he asked softly. Draco rarely used his given name. 

Harry jerked back as if burned, climbing off of Draco, trying to hide the blush spreading across his dark skin. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, actually,” he blurted out awkwardly, spinning around and marching off, trying not to smack himself in the face at the sheer idiocy at that statement. But god, the way Draco had looked pinned down…

It wasn’t a crush. Just an inconvenient attraction.

Right?   


~   


The next few days were spent scrolling through Draco’s Instagram whenever Harry had a free moment. It was getting a little out of hand. He had figured out post notifications too, and turned them on, meaning he always knew when there was a new picture to stare at for an uncomfortably long period of time. 

Okay, maybe it was a lot out of hand.

Especially once Sirius and Remus got involved. 

“So there I am, spray paint in one hand, smoke bomb in the other, Rem here has just fucking  _ deserted  _ me, and I can hear footsteps coming. So what do I do?” he paused for dramatic effect. “I hide in a closet. Ended up locked in there for two and a half hours, eventually your father found me and broke me out.”   


Harry laughed. He loved hearing Sirius’ stories, both about wild pranks that were pulled way back when, and about Harry’s father. They were at a dinner they had planned to catch up, the little family having not seen each other in a bit.

Remus, however, rolled his eyes. “I didn’t desert you, you’re just a slow runner,” he said primly. “With short legs too.”   


Sirius, who was indeed very short, pouted at his husband. “Not all of us can be bloody gangly giants,” he whined. 

Remus just smirked.

“As always, it’s a pleasure to listen to you two argue,” Harry teased. His phone, face up on the table, suddenly lit up.

_ One new post from prince.draconis _ , it read.

Harry quickly snatched his phone, hiding it in his lap and plastering an innocent look on his face. “So, Sirius, what did you even do in the closet for that long?”   


“Was that Instagram?” Sirius said suspiciously, knowing full well the question was a distraction. “You said you had no social media.”   


“It’s new,” Harry admitted. “Ron made me do it.”   


“I like Ron,” Sirius grinned. 

“That was a post notification,” Remus, who was seated next to Harry, said with a sly grin. Remember when Harry said Remus was the bearable one? That was a damn lie. “I couldn’t see who for. Who’s so special that you need post notifications, cub?”   


Damn that man.

“I can’t figure out how to turn them off,” Harry lied. 

Sirius’ grin widened into something manic. “You’re as shit a liar as your father was, you know that?” he said gleefully. “You’re stalking someone!”   


Harry groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Leave me alone.” His voice was muffled. “Let me die in peace, you bloody nosey old men.”

“Now now,” Remus said lightly, his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “As your legal guardians, it’s our right to bully you about having a crush.”   


“You stopped being my legal guardians as soon as I turned eighteen.”   


“Irrelevant,” Remus scolded.

“C’mon, tell us!” Sirius whined, leaning across the table like an excited child. Seriously, he was a fully grown man, but he still acted like a toddler.   


“No!” Harry said, dropping his hands and frowning. “You’ll never leave me alone!”   


“Duh,” Sirius said. “That’s the whole point.”   


“I know who it is,” Remus said casually, a faint smirk curling up the edges of his lips.

Harry and Sirius both swivelled their heads towards him, one stressed, one excited.

“You do?” Harry asked despairingly. 

“Of course I do, I know you,” Remus said. He was smiling now, reaching up to attempt to smooth Harry’s hair. It was a lost cause. “You fancy Draco, you have for years.”   


Sirius let out a weird noise that could only be described at ‘stressed’, while Harry quickly stated, “I don’t fancy him, I just think he’s pretty.”   


“Cissy’s son?” Sirius bemoaned. “Of all people, Cissy’s son?”   


“No, you fancy him,” Remus said calmly. He looked deeply amused. “You’re just as bad as James, I swear. It took him years to realize he actually fancied poor Lily.”   


“I don’t…” Harry trailed off. He couldn’t fancy Draco, could he?   


“You have on his notifications,” Remus said. “You talk about him constantly.”   


“We’re roommates!”   


“Last time we had dinner, you talked about the faces he made while doing eyeliner for about fifteen straight minutes.”   


“They’re funny faces.”   


“You kept your leftovers and said ‘Draco will like this’ as you packaged them up.”   


Harry slumped in his seat, face burning. Dear god, he really did fancy Draco. “What do I do now?”   


Sirius reached across the table and grabbed Harry’s hand, apparently having come to terms with his godsons crush. “Fuck him,” he said, very seriously. “Go home and fuck him.”

Harry made a noise of disgust, snatching his hand back from Sirius, while Remus sighed from next to him. “Sirius, no.”   


“Did I ever tell you how me and Remus got together, Harry?” Sirius said, a dangerous grin on his face.

“Don’t you dare,” Remus hissed, suddenly looking very, very embarrassed. 

“Remus walked into our dorm,” Sirius said slowly, dramatically. “It was just the two of us. He climbed into my bed, stared at me for a minute, and said ‘I hate you’.”   


“Don’t do this,” Remus moaned. “I’ll leave you here and go home, I swear to god.”   


“Then, he said ‘I hate you so much, you drive me insane, either stop being so stupidly fucking pretty or let me eat your ass’. End quote.” Sirius wiped a fake tear from his eye. “It was so eloquent.”   


“What the hell, Remus?” Harry asked in horror. Those were his  _ godparents _ .

Remus, who was now a bright shade of red, glared at his husband. “I’m going to murder you,” he said, perfectly calm. “I know where you sleep. I’m going to murder you.”

Sirius laughed. “I’m in danger,” he said cheerfully. 

“As awful as that was to hear, and as much as I wish I could bleach my brain, I still have a legitimate problem here,” Harry said, drawing the attention back to himself. 

“Harry,” Remus said, still red but now smiling warmly at him. “Just ask him out. You’re a charming lad, and from what I’ve seen of you two interacting, he fancies you right back.”   


Harry gaped at him. “You think so?”   


Sirius laughed, leaning across the table once more to tousle Harry’s hair. “Go get him, cub.”   


~   


Harry came home with a plan.

Well, not really a plan. Not even half of a plan. There was no plan.

“I’m back,” he called out, hanging his coat. He heard footsteps come down the hall, and his stomach twisted in knots.

“About bloody time,” Draco said. When Harry turned, he saw that the blond was leaning against the wood, wearing a skirt and a crop top. “I was doing a photoshoot. Wanna take pictures of me?”   


“You know I’m shit at taking pictures,” Harry said, trying not to stare too obviously at Draco’s stomach, his thighs. “Doesn’t Pansy normally do it?”   


“She’s working tonight,” Draco complained. “C’mon, you’ll do just fine.” He grabbed Harry’s hand before the other man could complain, dragging him to his room. He handed him his phone, the sparkly phone case scratching at Harry’s hand. “Just don’t let me look bad and we’ll be fine.”   


Harry, who wasn’t sure Draco was capable of looking bad, nodded.

Draco climbed gracefully onto his bed, propping himself up against a fluffy pillow and spreading his legs ever so slightly. He grabbed a hand mirror and some lip gloss. “Just get pictures of me applying, okay?”   


Oh god, Harry’s hands were shaking. “Sure,” he said, inwardly cheering when his voice didn’t waver, raising the phone and snapping a few pictures. God, he was too pretty, this couldn’t be real.

“Thank you!” Draco said, getting up and snatching his phone back, flipping through the pictures with a satisfied smirk. “Good, I look downright fuckable in these,” he approved. “You don’t suck, Potter.”   


“Thanks,” Harry said dryly, staring at the way the light from the phone reflected off Draco’s lip gloss. Well, now or never. “Draco?”   


“Hmm?”   


“I fancy you.”   


Draco looked at Harry, gave him a once over, and turned back to his phone. “I know.”   


Harry froze. “I’m sorry, you what?”   


“I know,” Draco repeated slowly, turning back to Harry. “I get notifications when you like my posts, genius, and you’re not slick about staring at my arse or constantly making me food.” He tilted his head, smiling. “Did you think I didn’t know?”   


“You never said anything,” Harry said, eyes wide. “You never said a damn thing.”   


“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Draco shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you really realized what you were doing, so I waited for you to make a move.” He tossed his phone on his bed, sashaying closer to Harry, who could only focus on the way his hips were moving. “Is this your move?”   


“Do you want it to be?” Harry whispered, head spinning.

Draco simply smiled again, grabbing Harry's hands and moving them so that they rested on Draco’s thighs, bare and silky smooth underneath the skirt. “You’re not the only one with a crush, Harry,” he whispered back.

~   


Draco’s next post was the tension-filled photo of him applying lip gloss. The caption read,  _ Taken by my new boyfriend. He’ll fight the next person who DMs me a dick pic. _

**Author's Note:**

> anon on tumblr requested this, original prompt is from strange-otp-prompts. this was so fun to write, i love pretty boy draco


End file.
